I’m still fuming as I walk into the media building several hours after storming out of Logan’s house. Normally I don’t stay angry for long, but this time I’m having trouble expelling the volatile energy coursing inside me. I can’t believe he actually thinks I’ll dump him once he’s in Munsen full-time. That I’ll throw him away like an old busted-up toy and find something shiny and new to play with.
Jerk.
When I burst into the station, I spot Morris in the producer’s booth, balancing the telephone handset on his shoulder as he jots something down on a notepad. I frown, noticing that Pace and Evelyn are already in their seats in the other booth. Pace snaps his earphones over the backward baseball cap on his head, while Evelyn bends over a sheet of paper in concentration.
Am I late? I glance at the clock on the far wall. Nope. I’m early, actually. So why is Morris in my booth?
I take a step forward, only to halt when Daisy wanders out of the back corridor. She pushes her bangs off her forehead—they’re neon-blue now—and grins sheepishly when she sees me.
“Hey,” I greet my roommate. “What are you doing here?” She doesn’t usually hang out at the station unless she’s supposed to host or produce, and I know for a fact she’s scheduled to do neither today.
“Hey.” For some reason, she looks almost…guilty. “I just popped in to drop off coffee for everyone.”
“Since when are you the station gofer?” I narrow my eyes. “Your shirt is inside out.” I pause. “And backwards.”
She glances at her tank top, wincing when she notices the tag sticking out from her collarbone. Then her eyes flit toward the producer’s booth.
I follow her gaze, gasping when I find Morris grinning at us. “Holy shit. You and Morris are hooking up?”
Daisy sighs. “Maybe.”
My anger at Logan is momentarily eclipsed by her news. Our schedules are so hectic that Daisy and I are hardly ever in our room at the same time, which works out great for when I want privacy, but it also means I miss out on girl talk and up-to-date gossip.
“Since when?” I squeal in excitement.
“A couple weeks now?” She shrugs. “I didn’t tell you because we’ve both been so busy. You’re cool with it, though, right?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You know, because you and Morris went out.”
I laugh. “Once. And my behaviour didn’t exactly warrant a second date. I think this is awesome. You totally just made my day—and trust me, my day has been shit, so it really needed to be made.”
“Oh no. What happened?”
My bad mood returns like an unwanted rash. “I got in a fight with Logan. And that’s all I’m saying on the subject, because if I talk about it right now, it’ll just piss me off again and then I’ll be too distracted to produce Dumb and Dumber’s show.”
We both glance at the main booth, where Evelyn is using the reflection on her water glass to check her makeup, dabbing delicately at her eye shadow. Pace is engrossed with his phone, his chair tipped back so far that I predict a very loud disaster in the near future.
“God, I love them,” Daisy says with a snicker. “I don’t think I’ve ever met two more self-absorbed people.”
Morris saunters out of the booth and wanders over to us. He notices Daisy’s shirt and says, “Sweetheart, we’re at work. Show some decorum.”
“Says the guy who ripped this shirt off me in the supply closet.” Rolling her eyes, she takes a step away. “I’m going to make myself presentable in the bathroom. I’d do it out here, but I’m scared Dumber might take a picture and post it on a porn site.”
“Wait, the names Dumb and Dumber actually correspond to each of them?” Morris says in surprise. “I thought it was more of a general thing. Which one is Dumber?”
The second the question leaves his mouth, a muffled crash reverberates from the booth, and we all turn to see Pace tangled up on the floor. Yup, the guy who spent an hour regaling me about his cow-tipping days back in Iowa? Tipped himself right over.
From behind the glass, Pace bounces to his feet, notices us staring, and mouths the words, “I’m okay!”
Morris sighs. “I withdraw the question.”
As Daisy leaves to fix her shirt, Morris casually follows me to the booth door. “First caller’s already on hold,” he tells me. “I screened her and wrote her info on the sheet.”
My forehead creases. “Did you open the lines before I got here?”
He wears a sheepish look. “Not on purpose. I was calling my dad and pressed the wrong button, and then the phone rang and I was already in there so I took the caller’s info. She’s got an urgent G-spot question for Evelyn, so this should be interesting.”
“Isn’t it always?” I say with a grin.
I take my seat and conduct my pre-show check. The blinking lights on the phone tell me there are more callers waiting to be screened. I chat with the first one, verify his motives, then send him back on hold. I’m about to screen the next one when Pace and Evelyn kick off the show.
“What’s up, broskis!” Pace greets the radio audience. “You’re listening to Whatcha Need with Pace ’N Evelyn.”
Cringing, Evelyn leans into her microphone. “Before we start, I’d like to ask everyone to speak in their indoor voices today, because I am currently sporting a brutal hang-over.” She glares at her co-host. “I’m talking to you, asswipe.”
And so it begins.
“Let’s chat with our first caller,” Pace says cheerfully. “Who we talking to right now?”
Since I’m not eager to listen to Evelyn talk about G-spots, I lean forward to take another call, only to freeze in my chair when a familiar voice wafts out of the speaker over the door.
“Hey, this is Logan.”
My pulse speeds up.
Oh God.
What the hell is he doing?
“Tell us whatcha need, my man.”
My boyfriend audibly clears his throat. “Well, here’s the thing, Pace. And Evelyn—hey, Evelyn, female opinion definitely appreciated. I’m hoping you guys can give me some advice on how to win my girl back.”
Pace chuckles into the mic. “Ooooh boy. Someone found themselves in the dog house?”
“Big-time,” Logan confirms.
“What’d you do to piss off your lady? We need the deets before we dispense the wisdom.”
Every inch of me tenses as I await Logan’s response. God. I can’t believe he’s about to air our dirty laundry on this stupid campus show.
“Long story short? I projected my own fears and insecurities on her, and made some presumptions that I probably shouldn’t—”
“Gonna stop you right there, broski,” Pace says, rubbing his scruffy beard growth in dismay. “You just threw around a lot of big words. How ’bout you dumb it down for us—I mean, for peeps who might not be good with the English language. Shout out to all our ESL listeners out there!”
A laugh rips out of my throat. Oh, Pace. Never change.
Logan sounds like he’s trying not to laugh as he rephrases himself. “Bottom line? I screwed up. I said some stupid shit I didn’t mean, it pissed her off, and she stormed off.”
Pace sighs. “Bitches be cray.”
“Hey, Logan?” Evelyn drawls.
“Yeah?”
“You sound hot. Are you sure you even want this chick? Because I’m free tonight if you’re interested.”
A strangled cough fills the airwaves. “Um. Uh, thanks for the offer. But yeah, I want her.” He pauses. “I’m in love with her.”
My heart soars like a kite in the wind. He’s in love with me?
Then it sinks like a stone. Wait. What if he’s only saying it because I said I loved him?
“I’ve been in love with her for a few months now,” he continues, and his husky confession re-inflates my heart. “I didn’t tell her because I didn’t want to scare her off by saying it too soon.”
“Dude, you should’ve told her.”
I’m startled by Pace’s earnest response. Touched, even. At least until he finishes that sentence.
“If you say it right off the bat, they drop their panties super-fast. Means you don’t have to put as much work into bagging them.”
“Uh-huh,” Logan says as if he’s in agreement, but I’ve known him long enough to be able to pick up on his sarcasm. “Anyway, this girl…she’s the love of my life. She’s smart and funny and unbelievably compassionate. She forgives people even when they don’t deserve it. She—”
“Good lay?” Pace interrupts.
“Oh yeah. The best.”
God, my cheeks are on fire now.
“But the sex is just icing,” Logan says softly. “It’s everything else that matters most.”
A shadow crosses my peripheral vision. I turn my head expecting to see Daisy or Morris on the other side of the glass door.
My breath hitches when my gaze locks with Logan’s. He’s on his cell phone, wearing faded jeans and his hockey jacket, and his blue eyes shine with sincerity.
Our esteemed hosts notice him as well, and a gasp echoes in the air.
“Wait—we’ve been talking to John Logan?” Evelyn shrieks.
“Wait—you’re talking about Gretchen?” Pace exclaims, his gaze darting like a Ping-Pong ball from me to Logan.
“No, I’m talking about Grace,” Logan says, smiling at me through the glass. “Grace Elizabeth Ivers. The woman I love.”
I don’t know whether to stand up on my chair and shout out “I love you too,” or hide under the desk in embarrassment. Big, public displays freak me out. If I owned a cloak of invisibility, I’d wear it every time a birthday or some other major event rolled around, because I hate, hate, hate being the center of attention.
But I can’t tear my eyes off Logan. I can’t breathe, or move, or form a single thought other than He loves me.
“Anyway, I’m hanging up now,” Logan tells the hosts. “I’m pretty sure I can take it from here.”
The line cuts off, and I shoot a panicky glance at the switchboard. Shit. The show is still on the air. I’m supposed to put on the next caller.
To my relief, Morris appears, giving Logan a friendly thump on the arm as he hurries into the producer’s booth. “Go,” Morris orders. “I’ll cover the rest of the show.”
“Are you sure?”
He grins. “That was always the plan. Who do you think screened the call, Gretch?” He points to the door. “Go.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I hurry out of the booth and throw my arms around Logan’s strong shoulders. “I cannot believe you just did that,” I blurt out.
As his laughter tickles the top of my head, his arms slide down to my hips, large hands curling around my waist. “I figured nothing short of a grand gesture would convince you how shitty I feel about what happened earlier.”
I pull back, tipping my head to meet his gorgeous eyes. “You should feel shitty,” I chastise. “I can’t believe you said all that stuff. I don’t plan on ever breaking up with you.”
“Good. Because I’m never breaking up with you.” He brings one hand to my cheek, stroking it with infinite tenderness. “Actually, I think I’m going to marry you one day.”
Shock jolts through me. “What?”
“One day,” he repeats when he sees my expression. “I mean it, Grace, I’m in this for the long haul. You still have two years left at Briar, and I’ll be in Munsen during that time, but I promise you, I’ll come see you as often as I can. Every available second I have will be yours.” His voice thickens. “I’m yours.”
I swallow a lump of emotion. “Did you really mean what you told Pace just now?”
“You mean…that I love you?”
I nod.
“I meant every damn word, gorgeous.” He hesitates. Visibly swallows. “Hannah was trying to describe love to me last semester. She said it feels like your heart is about to overflow, and that when you love someone, you need them more than anything else in the world, more than food or water or air. That’s how I feel about you. I need you. I can’t stand the thought of being without you.” He releases a shaky breath. “You’re the last person I think about before I go to sleep, and the first person I think about when I open my eyes in the morning. You’re it for me, baby.”
The heartfelt words unleash a flood of warmth inside me, but despite that, I can’t help but gaze at him with profound sorrow. “What about everything you said earlier…about your future, and how you’re going to be miserable and hate your life…” I bite my lower lip. “I don’t want that to happen, Logan. I don’t want you to turn bitter, and hateful, and…” I trail off.
His fingers tremble against my cheek. “I won’t. Or at least, I’ll try not to. It’s going to suck, Grace. We both know that, but I promise not to let it destroy me, or us.” A crack wobbles his voice. “And it won’t be forever, just until Jeff comes back and takes over again. The next few years, it’ll probably feel like I’m wandering around in a pitch-black tunnel, but there is a light at the end of it. And as long as you’re with me, there’ll be a light inside of it, too. Without you, it’ll just be darkness.”
I burst out laughing, and a hurt expression fills his eyes.
“You think that’s funny?” he says sadly.
“No, I was thinking it’s a damn shame you didn’t put everything you just said into the poem you wrote me.”
A tentative smile lifts his mouth. “You liked that, huh?”
“I loved it.” My heart constricts. “I love you.”
The smile widens. “Even after I acted like a stupid jackass today?”
“Yep.”
“Even though I’ll probably act like a stupid jackass again? Because I can’t promise not to. Apparently I’m hopeless when it comes to relationships.”
“No, you’re not.” I ease up on my tiptoes and kiss the corner of his jaw. “You’re a bit inept, sure. But you’re also ridiculously talented when it comes to romantic gestures, so if you screw up again, I’m ninety percent sure you’ll be able to win me back.”
“Only ninety percent?” He looks upset.
“Well, it depends how badly you screw up. I mean, if it’s picking a fight with me like you did today, then obviously we’ll be able to work through it. But if I’m over at your house and I go down to the basement and find a serial killer lair? No promises.”
“Jesus Christ, what is your obsession with serial killers?” He grins. “Hey, that should be your specialty. Profiling killers.”
Damn. Not a bad idea.
I decide to put a pin in that, then loop my arms around his neck again. “Question.”
His eyes twinkle. “Hit me.”
“Can we kiss now, or are you still groveling?”
“Depends on whether my girlfriend requires more groveling.”
“Nope. I require this.” I cup the back of his head and yank his mouth down on mine.
The kiss is…magic. It’s always magic when we’re together. As our tongues meet in a reckless tangle, my mind spins and my body sings.
“Love you, Johnny,” I murmur into his lips.
His laughter warms my face. Then he brushes his mouth over mine and whispers, “Love you too, gorgeous.”
